Still Searching for the Rhythm of My Life

I can't seem to get going these days.

I want to blame the weather and say that things will get better when I can get outside, and I know that at least in part that is true.

But I cannot blame the weather for what sometimes feels like a total inability to get anything constructive done. Last winter I remodeled my kitchen for crying out loud. Monday I walked a few dogs and scraped together a couple of meals consisting largely of frozen or reheated ingredients.

I cannot keep up with anything I plan these days and unless it's a well ingrained habit with commitments to someone beyond myself, I don't even do things I'm used to doing every day. Even things I enjoy.

Since Ethan died I feel like I'm rattling around inside myself and can't quite make everything fit and work together. People tell me I look tired, and I am. They tell me I've lost weight, and I don't think so, but I don't weigh. I also don't exercise daily, don't eat healthy, and drink way too much coffee.

I might get around to having breakfast by 10 a.m. after spending hours at the computer each morning. While I know that my keyboard time both for my blog and social networking are eating a lot of my mornings, I also know I need the therapy and interaction it brings. I need to limit it more, which would be easy if I could get motivated or get out, but not eliminate it.

So while I've gotten better at being alone and managed to find some parts of the person I lost with my son Dec. 15, I'm not all here yet and realizing that makes me sad at a different level.

Sometimes I'm not grieving for him, I'm grieving for me and the person I used to be.

I want to know what happened to my motivation, my get up and go, my darn can-do attitude. More importantly, I want those parts of myself back and I don't know how to retrieve them.

I've never been one for schedules, at least as far as what I'm doing is concerned, but I think until I can get all the parts of my life working a little better day to day, I'm going to have to make one for myself. Instead of fumbling through my day and ending it tired and aggravated, I'm going to have to start saying that at this time, I do this.

For instance, I need to have been away from the computer an hour ago (the cuckoo just reminded me it's 10 a.m.). I should have had breakfast no later than 8 a.m., instead of puttering through the kitchen for a banana and almond butter just before I sat back down at the computer.

That's going to require some planning on my part and some determination to make myself do the things that make me feel better beyond my twice a week trips to Zumba. (And thanks to the weather, I've missed one of those the last two weeks which does not help in the least.)

Making myself do the things that are right for me is an unfamiliar concept but I think once I force myself into better patterns (repeatedly, because I get the feeling I've had this conversation with myself, at least in part, before), it will eventually sink in. After all, I have managed regular wardrobe changes since realizing I was at gymnastics class in jeans I'd had on for days.

I think sometimes that mental t-shirt I want to wear could be as much for me as for the rest of the world. You know the one that says "My son died. Give me a freaking break!"

There are days when I'm tempted to make one to wear to all the places where I wind up feeling like I'm just not good enough any more, like the grocery store. I feel like I should be on crutches, or have an arm in a sling because there's so much hurt that I'm dragging around that just doesn't show and while I don't want a lot of fake sympathy or pity, there's a reason that my hair is still in the braids I put it in yesterday and I'm wearing no makeup.

Perhaps I need to mentally wear that shirt for myself sometimes and give myself a break. At the same time, I think the danger is in letting myself live in that shirt. My break can only last so long. I have to get back to the rhythm of life.